


i’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

by darth_stitch



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crack, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Secret Marriage, Steve Rogers Can Wield Mjolnir, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/pseuds/darth_stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a.k.a. The Amazing Adventures of Bitty!Steve and Friends</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This bunny ambushed me and was originally posted at [The Blanket Fort](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/102920152366/the-amazing-adventures-of-bitty-steve-and-friends)

  
Later on, they’ll tell him the explanation is _magic._

Apparently, the Super Evil Actual Nazi Group that they’ve been fighting against has been around since _antiquity_ and it was only during World War II that they decided to hook up with Hitler.  Because Hitler, of course, _absolutely_ loved all this occult shit and any supposedly mystical advantage that he could use to justify the existence of his “Third Reich” and win the war. 

For the moment, Steve Rogers wakes up in a New York that _vaguely_ resembles the city he’s been born and grown up in and the first thought that hits him is _"Oh my God, we’re being invaded."_

It’s explosions and debris and people screaming and what looks like to be some sort of weaponized machines - it’s a scene straight out of Bucky’s pulp magazines.  Or what  _War of the Worlds_ must’ve been like, if Welles hadn’t been pulling everyone’s legs. And that thing is about to target what looks like to be a bus full of people. 

Steve pretty much knows that he can’t chase that god damn thing away with a trash can lid and he looks down on the ground and the first thing he sees is some kind of hammer.  It shouldn’t be too heavy to lift, even for him, right?

He’s thinking fast - best option would be to draw that machine thing away from the people - he can run pretty quickly, as long as his asthma doesn’t catch up on him - but the point is, he can draw it away from those people, maybe long enough for them to get out and run for it themselves. 

So he lifts the hammer.

It’s amazingly light.

(In the back of his mind, he feels this contented _purr_ and a sudden surge of strength.  _You are worthy.  Use me, our uncrowned king._ )

He gets enough breath in his lungs to yell, “HEY! YOU BIG DUMMY! OVER HERE!”

He throws the hammer.  Just to get the thing’s attention, right?

Boy. Does he _ever._

The hammer actually _sings_ as it sails through the air and smashes that machine into smithereens.  Right before it goes sailing back into the hand of a huge, blonde man, who’s staring at him with an utterly gobsmacked look on his face. 

"EEP?" The hell was _that?_

There’s a woman with red hair who runs over to him, yelling his name.  And he “eeps!” again when she actually hugs him, then kisses him on both cheeks, muttering in what _had_ to be Russian - Steve wasn’t fluent - but he’d picked up a few words from his neighbors, so it sounded like “little mouse” and yeah, those were definitely words that _Babushka_ in the apartment next door used whenever she was fretting if Steve was hurt or sick again.  He’s half expecting she’d be hauling him off to feed him _borscht_ or something.  

"Do I know you?" Steve manages, fairly sure that he was red all over. 

She frowns at him, then checks his head.  “Do you remember who you are?”

"I’m Steven Grant Rogers — " And then Steve registers those giant footsteps and okay, Bucky was _so_ going to kill him for this but there was no way in hell he wouldn’t shield the red-haired dame from Big, Green and…..

Okay, so Big and Green looks _friendly_?

Big and Green is actually _beaming_ at him, reaches out and pets at his hair with a surprisingly gentle giant finger. 

"Tiny Cap smash _good,”_ he declares.

Sarah Rogers raised her son to be polite.  So the appropriate response was, “Uh…. _thanks?”_

And then some fella in red and gold metal armor descends on the street and he’s talking a mile a minute and from that rant, Steve gathers, “Fucking hell, of course, ninety pounds of Dandelion Floofy Righteousness and Justice can wield the motherfucking god’s hammer!  What is my life!”

"Hey, _language!”_ Steve sputters.  “Ain’t no cause to be talking like that in front of a lady!”

“ _Bozhe moi,_ " was the mutter of said lady behind him, burying her face in her hand. 

"Truly, Mjolnir finds our Captain worthy," declares Big and Blonde with the apparently Magical Hammer. 

"Um, look, I’m sure you seem to be all very nice people," Steve began.  "But could somebody _please_ tell me what’s going on?”

And then, of course, because Somebody must have it in for him somewhere, _that’s_ when he starts wheezing and coughing and yep, hello, there’s his asthma, kicking back in with a vengeance. 

God damn it. 

***

The Asset was brought out for this particular mission and told that his Target was Captain America. 

"You have done this before," said the Handler.  "You have shaped history for us once.  You must do this again."

There is a memory that he is allowed to keep.  He remembers a dam - the Hoover Dam - and a dark haired, dark-eyed woman who was a potential Target.  But the primary one was the man calling himself _Captain America._  

Something about _that_ Captain America felt _wrong_.  Made him angry.  Made him absolutely furious.

_(That ain’t Steve.  He ain’t got no right to wear that uniform or carry that shield.)_

The Asset is not supposed to feel anything.  The Asset is not supposed to ask any questions other than those pertinent to successfully carrying out his orders.  He only has the Mission.

He took that shot.  Clean.  Right through the throat.

_(He won’t be able to spout lies no more.)_

So now he’s in New York, instead of the Dam.  He’s pointed at this Captain America, who he shot once before.  Told to take him out. 

But then the robots obscure his vision and on the comm, he hears, “Use the Witch first, let’s see what she can do - boss’ orders.”

And there’s a flash of light and in the Captain’s place —

_Steve._

_Mission override.  Protect Target.  Protect Target at all costs.  Till the end of the line._

And Steve’s doubled over, wheezing, coughing - _breathe, baby, breathe with me, in and out, you can do it, Stevie, there you go…._

"Soldier, can you hear me? Take the shot!  Take the shot now!"  Rumlow.  The other member of his team.  Codename:  Crossbones. 

He’s in the other building.  He wants the Target dead.  The Asset knows that he must protect the Target, that this was the Original Mission, the only one that mattered, the one that he was _created_ for.  

Crossbones is a _threat._   He points his rifle in the threat’s direction. 

Threat eliminated. 

His allies are now all _threats_ because they want him to kill the Target

( _Steve_ )

and his Original Mission’s directives are very clear

( _You’ll take care of him for me, won’t you, Bucky? I know you love him so.)_

so the Asset takes out all his former allies with brutal efficiency.  His next mission is to find the Target, stay close, ensure his well-being.

_(In sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, till the end of the line….)_

And in his mind, he hears the Target’s voice, surprisingly deep, coming from such a tiny body, telling him,  _Those sound an awful lot like wedding vows._

_(Damn straight they are.)_

Behind his mask, the Asset’s lips curve upwards. 

***

So according to his new found friends, Steve Rogers is actually living the life of his radio show character, except that instead of being called _The Shield_ , his code name is _Captain America_ and before that apparent magic spell hit him (Thor says it came from a young woman, who promptly disappeared again), he was about six foot odd and built like a brick wall. 

They had actual pictures. 

Steve almost had another asthma attack.  He was given an inhaler that was a damn sight better than the asthma cigarettes he used to have to smoke.  Or being held over a steaming bowl of hot water. 

Still.  There he was.  Dressed pretty much like a version of _The Shield,_ in red, white and blue.

Bucky would laugh himself _sick_ over this. 

Steve tries not to worry when they all look at each other when he asks after Bucky.  But still, if it’s already the 21st century, a long way from 1941 and his last memory was sending Bucky off to boot camp and he knew it would eventually lead to the war —

_You got my Ma’s ring, right? If money gets tight, if I’m late with my paycheck, you pawn it._

_No, I ain’t pawning your wedding ring, you jerk.  You gave it to me, I’m keeping it safe._

No.  He doesn’t want to think about it.  He’s still got the ring, by the way, threaded through his dogtags, one of which say, _Rogers Steven G_ and his serial number.  Apparently, the ring didn’t fit him once he’d grown into this Captain America guy. 

The ring fits again now.  For the moment. 

Steve doesn’t want to _look_ at the dogtags that say, _Barnes James B_.  Not yet.  

In the meantime, the others really were his friends - Natasha the Black Widow, Tony Stark (yes, _the_ Howard Stark’s son) - Iron Man, Thor the God of Thunder who tells him that his magical hammer _Mjolnir_ apparently likes him, that nice Dr. Banner fella who actually turned into the Friendly Big Green Giant - it was Big and Green who carried him to the docs and later on he met Clint Barton, Hawkeye and Sam Wilson, the Falcon.  And the entire lot of them were this elite team called _the Avengers._

Sam was a very calming person to be around - which was a relief from Tony the Perpetual Motion Machine.  And Clint?  Well, he patted Steve on the shoulder and said:

"We’re all a buncha loons, but you get used to it after a while."

"Gee, appreciate that.  Thanks for the assist."

He gets a good meal and one of the few reasons he can also believe their cockamamie story about being injected with some sort of _super soldier serum_ is that he can stand straighter, his back doesn’t ache so much anymore and his left ear can hear better.  So he didn’t time travel into the future - he’s acutely aware of the absence of a  _lot_ of pains that he’s used to registering as  _normal._  

But he’s tired and Dr. Banner tells him he needs the rest, so he’s bundled off to bed, with the softest pillows and sheets he’s ever felt. 

His chest gives a twinge because _God_ , he misses Bucky so much.  Wants him there with an ache that squeezes his heart tight.  He closes his eyes, tries to aim for sleep. 

It feels like an eternity later when something _metal_ closes gently around his wrist - _metal_ fingers that felt an awful lot like the way Bucky would take his pulse, making sure his bad heart didn’t skip a beat.  

So Steve blinks his eyes open and stares at the strange, masked man who’s sitting at his bedside, with his _metal_ hand around Steve’s own. The grip is infinitely gentle and  _that_ pretty much helps Steve from panicking out right.  

Of course, he’s still a smart-mouthed punk, so the first thing out of his mouth is, “Who are you?  Didn’t think the nurses here wore fancy masks on their faces.”

The man removes what apparently was fancy goggles and the face mask.  The voice is devoid of inflection when he says, “Codename: Winter Soldier.”

“ _Bucky?”_

So of course, just as Steve is gaping at Bucky Barnes with his long hair and that frighteningly blank expression in those blue-gray eyes, that’s when Natasha rushes in, with her gun aimed at Bucky’s head. The other Avengers are right behind her. 

Bucky draws Steve protectively close, shielding him with his own body, aims his own gun right at her. 

She snaps out something in Russian.  He snarls back in the same language. 

Her eyes grow wide.

"Holy shit," is Clint Barton’s reaction from behind her.

"Bucky?" Steve really, really needs to get his brain to properly operate his tongue soon, before they all get killed.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" There’s Bucky’s voice now, with the familiar Brooklyn drawl and Steve wants to cry with the sheer relief of it, even if he’s gonna get teased by his idiot jerk about it later. 

Also, it gets the starch back into his spine.  “ _You’re_ Bucky, you jerk! Don’t shoot Nat! Nat, don’t shoot him, he’s my Bucky!”

And then Steve realizes the slip of the tongue he just made with that last statement _(did the 21st Century still have it in for queer fellas?)_ and he can’t help the pink staining his cheeks. But he rallies and even though he really doesn’t remember the whole Captain America thing, Steve orders everyone to stand down.  And then irritably orders Bucky to “Put me down, Bucko or so help me — “

Bucky gently eases away from Steve, so he can find his footing.  And then Steve wobbles.

"Oh God damn it — eep!"  This time, Bucky promptly sweeps him up into his arms just like a bride.  And now Steve knows he’s blushing like one. 

"I’m going to get you for this, you jerk," he mutters, trying to poke Bucky somewhere, except there’s all this…. _armor_ in the way. 

"Try it, punk," Bucky murmurs back and then he looks a bit surprised, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. 

Tony raises his hand.  “Caplet, do you think you can get your murderous teddy bear to come with us, so we can all discuss this over coffee like civilized people?”

"He’s not my — " Steve protests but gives it up as a lost cause.  Hopefully, none of his new friends turn him and Bucky in for being queer. "Um.  Okay, let’s just get this over with…"

***

Steve learns that it is entirely possible to have some sort of discussion even though he spends most of it sitting on Bucky’s lap, a protective metal arm around his waist. 

Also, his team mates aren’t even batting an eye at this and then Sam, God bless him, actually leans over and says, “You know it’s not illegal to be homosexual anymore.”

"What?"

Bucky’s got Steve’s hand, the one that’s wearing his Ma’s ring.  He turns it over thoughtfully, taps the ring. 

Steve’s pretty sure he’s going to stop blushing sometime soon.  Please.  Any time now.  “Yeah, Buck, still got your Ma’s ring.  You gave it to me, remember?”

"In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer…" Bucky starts murmuring.  God.  He looks so lost. 

"Yeah, vows and everything.  We made ‘em, with _Babushka_ 's cat as a witness.” 

"And also, you fellas can get married," Sam adds meaningfully looking at Steve’s ring.  "Legally.  In the state of New York."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Steve breathes out. 

"So, are we supposed to call you Missus Winter Soldier now?" Tony inquires. 

"That’s Missus Barnes to you," Bucky snaps at the same time Steve growls out, "And he’s Missus Rogers, wanna make something out of it?"

"We must celebrate the marriage of our Captain and his shieldmate!" Thor enthuses.  Bless him, really. 

"Tony, I am raiding your bar for the good vodka," Natasha declares.  "There is not enough vodka in the world for this."

So this is the story that his team mates were so reluctant to tell Steve, because he was already overwhelmed with so much information.

The world knew that Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes served as a Howling Commando and second-in-command to Captain Steve Rogers during World War II.  There was a fateful mission involving the capture of an enemy scientist named Amin Zola from a moving train. 

"I fell," Bucky says.  "I remember that much."

And until this day, everyone thought Bucky was _dead._

Natasha filled in the rest.  The Winter Soldier, an American captured by the Russians, remade and shaped to be their weapon.  She hadn’t known his real name, only that he’d been the deadliest assassin the world had ever seen, a ghost responsible for many deaths for over seventy years.  

Dr. Banner adds a few more bits of information.  “According to your old mission report, you originally rescued Sergeant Barnes here from a HYDRA base and he’d been brought in to be experimented on.  My guess is that he may have already received some version of your super soldier serum.  Could’ve helped him survive the fall from the train.” 

Steve shuddered at the implications.  Torture.  Brainwashing.  Pain.  Bucky’s metal arm.  And that filled him with rage. 

"Natasha, are they dead?  The ones who did this to Bucky? These HYDRA guys?"

Behind him, Bucky briefly tightens his grip around Steve’s waist.  “Mission?  Orders?”

Steve gently pats the arm.  “Stand down.  You ain’t goin’ nowhere without me and until you’re better, you got that?” 

"They’re not dead," Bucky tells him.  "They ordered me to kill you."  Those blue-gray eyes went cold.  "You are my mission.  I belong to you.  I’m operational.  What are my orders?"

"Yeah, no boogey HYDRA monster’s gonna get Caplet with Bucky Bear on duty," Tony quips. 

"You’re not going to be someone’s weapon anymore, Bucky," Steve tells him fiercely.  "Right now, we just need to sit tight here for a while, regroup - apparently, they did something to me as well, which is why the last thing I remember is sending you off to Basic in 1941."

"You’re Captain America."

Steve shrugs.  “That’s what they’re saying.  They got pictures, even movies to prove it too.  Crazy, isn’t it?”

"You’re the _real_ Captain America,” Bucky continues. 

"Um.  Were there any fake ones?"

Clint’s the one who winces.  “Yeah, that explains a _whole_ lot of things from the old files.”

Tony cringes too.  “Oh boy.”

And then, of course, Steve’s stomach gives out an embarrassing growl and suddenly, Bucky’s slightly less this Winter Soldier character and is reassuringly _Bucky_ again.  Because he gently lifts Steve off his lap and says, “You need to eat.  Chicken noodle soup.  Is there a kitchen in this fancy place?”

And he sounds so very much like his old self that Steve goes after him saying, “I ain’t no wilting flower, Bucko!”

"No, you’re a bitty punk who needs to eat his soup anyway.   Jeez Louise, there’s a hella lot of food in here - I can fatten you up just like a Thanksgiving turkey."

_"Bucky!"_

According to Clint, it was even scarier to learn that the Winter Soldier was apparently able to make a “killer diller” chicken noodle soup. 

Steve’s only comment was, “Best damn thing in all of Brooklyn.”

And Bucky, who’s looking more and more like himself by the minute, even though he still slips into the cold mask of the Soldier, drops a kiss into Steve’s hair and says, “Eat your soup, punk.”

_\- tbc -_


	2. Chicken Soup is Good for the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted at [The Blanket Fort](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/103012627496/a-bitty-steve-appreciation-life)

He’s actually not going to kill them all.

The moment Natasha realizes that the Winter Soldier was not about to make war upon their heads is the same moment she watches him mentally count off the Avengers present in the main Tower kitchen and turns to measure out enough water to make chicken noodle soup _for all of them._

He lets Steve fuss at him to remove the leather jacket and the Kevlar, leaving him in just a plain black singlet that exposes the fact that the metal arm is solidly attached to the shoulder.  Steve makes a distressed sound at the sight and the Soldier flinches and is obviously taken aback when Steve presses forward to plant a quick kiss where metal met flesh. 

"Those bastards are gonna pay for what they did to you," Steve tells him fervently. 

The Soldier’s gaze softens.  “ _Dorogoi moy.”_ This time, he doesn’t look so surprised when the words slip out of his mouth and Natasha wonders when or how did he ever pick up enough Russian to absorb its words of love, instead of just commands.  

Steve tilts his head to the side - Natasha _knows_ that the Captain she knew is fluent in the language.  _He_ had surprised her with his knowledge, had thrown her one of those rare, boyish grins that had made her realize how much of his real self he had buried beneath the persona of what Fury had called “America’s Greatest Solider.”  Apparently, _this_ Steve doesn’t have that fluency yet.  

"You calling me something sweet there, Buck?" Steve asks.  " _Babushka_ been teaching you more Russian again?”

_Babushka._ That long-dead neighbor.  That explained it. 

"It means _you’re a smartass little punk_ who should be resting while I get things done in the kitchen,” The Soldier, no, _Bucky_ \- this had to be _Steve’s_ Bucky now, retorts.  

"That’s an awful lot to say in just two words of Russian there," Steve challenges.  He slants his gaze over to Natasha, widening big blue eyes in mute, helpless appeal. "Help?"

Oh, _that little shit_ \- that look is so _perfect_ that Natasha’s almost about to provide a translation before her good sense finally wakes up screaming and her own sense of humor barrels it over to make a suitable response.  “Old Russian proverb - never get involved in a spat between a man and his husband.”  

Clint snorts. 

Steve rolls his eyes.  And then throws out a word in Russian that has Natasha snorting up vodka through her nose. 

_"Steven Grant Rogers_ that’s no way to talk in front of a lady!” Bucky is scandalized. 

“ _Babushka_ said it meant ‘sweetheart’!” Steve protests, putting on a look that would put angels to shame with its innocence.  

"Sure, sure, you gonna sell me the Brooklyn Bridge while you’re at it?"

"Nah, I’m making Howard’s son do that for me."

"HEY!" Tony starts.  "Should I be offended?  I think I’m supposed to be offended — "

"You should be setting out dishes if you wanna eat," Steve tells him, as he’s grabbing some vegetables, a knife and the chopping board.  At Bucky’s raised brow, he responds with, "What, you think I’m gonna sit here while you slave away in the kitchen, Missus Rogers?  My mama taught me better than that."

And then Steve somehow manages to set each of them to some other task - peeling potatoes and carrots, cleaning up the spilled vodka with a sweet apology to Natasha, washing used kitchen utensils, making Thor reach up for the hard to reach stuff in the kitchen cabinet since Bucky told Steve he didn’t trust him on a footstool…. _yet._ That last one was met with a ferocious scowl and Bucky managed a rusty chuckle and repeated the phrase _dorogoi moy_ again.  

"Still not telling you what that means," Natasha sings out to Steve. 

Steve claims that he’s _not_ pouting.  No, sir.  Sam is just laughing at him.  “Yeah, don’t you go giving us that bullshit, Rogers.  Maybe you pout enough in your hubby’s direction, he’ll start talking.”

"Please, no, not if you want this soup to be edible," Bucky says, taking a taste, frowning and reaching for more pepper. 

"I can be patient," Steve tells him and this time he’s _not_ batting those ridiculously long eyelashes at Bucky, who gives a long suffering sigh. 

And all the time Nat’s watching both men, the way the Soldier’s eyes track Steve’s movements in the kitchen all the time with obvious concern, sparing only a quick nod in her direction because, of course, he’s aware that _she_ is observing him.  

He would have done the same, in her place. 

They are all going to have a little talk later, preferably without Steve present.  She’s trusting that it’s not going to end in bloodshed. 

Steve’s the one who’s the most fascinating to watch.  After the Battle of New York, Fury had drawn her aside, told her to keep an eye on the Captain, because it hadn’t been that long since SHIELD’s own headshrinkers considered Captain America at risk for depression and possibly suicidal tendencies.

_I am not sleeping with him_ , Natasha makes that clear and the Director had the grace to look abashed but had retorted with, _I’d just rather not learn that Cap decided to eat his own gun on my watch, okay, Agent Romanoff?_

_That’s doable_ , Natasha tells him. 

It was but Natasha hadn’t anticipated how a near thing _failing_ this was.  Nor did she quite anticipate how much she wanted Steve’s actual friendship not just for the sake of a mission, but for itsel.  She’d liked the glimpses of the real Steve Rogers that Cap had let her see, eventually.  Aside from the genuine kindness, she enjoyed teasing the snark and the sass out of him. 

She’d been just as equally thankful that Steve had eventually met and befriended Sam Wilson, who’d originally been working as a counselor to vets at the Brooklyn VA.  Eventually, Sam’s own work as a pararescue with the experimental Falcon units came to light and he’d also received the invitation to join the Avengers Initiative.  Between her and Sam and Clint, they’d drawn a little more out of the man they’d come to know as quiet, reflective, who so often tried to mask his evident sadness with a smile. 

But the tiny man they’re looking at now, smiling and laughing and _flirting_ with the world’s deadliest assassin, snarking and trading quips and ordering them all around in the kitchen with the same calm efficiency as he did in the battlefield - Natasha quickly realized that this, finally, was the introduction to the _real_ Steve Rogers they had all been waiting for.  

And speaking of the world’s deadliest assassin - well, the words _besotted_ and _adoring_ come to mind very quickly. 

_"It is impossible to live without the sun, and it is impossible to live without your beloved,"_ she murmurs to the Soldier in Russian, much later, as all of them were settled down to enjoy the meal, with some garlic bread too. 

His back straightens. _"Da._ ”

Thor, by the way, sang praises over the soup.  This time, Thor deploys his own pleading puppy look over at Steve and Bucky, because he wanted to learn how to prepare this for his beloved Jane.  Nonplussed, both men nod and agree. 

"So this is the Cap in his natural habitat, without the stick up his ass," Tony observes, because, of course, this is _Tony._

"You wanna eat that soup, pal or do you wanna wear it?" Bucky growls. 

Tony holds up a spoonful.  “It’s really good soup?  Okay! Okay!  Eating.  See? Eating now.”  He makes pitiful eyes at Bruce.  “Brucey? Don’t let the big scary Russian bear get me?”

_He’s/I’m actually ethnically Romanian_ was the combined answer of Steve and Bucky, which was left unheard in the wake of Bruce’s eyes flashing green and the comment:

"Hulk like Missus Cap’s soup."

Steve almost chokes on _his_ spoonful, getting worried, gentle pats on his back from his Soldier and a glass of water.  Once he gets his act together, Steve gives Bruce an incredulous: _"Missus Cap?"_

Apparently, Steve isn’t the only little shit in the family.  Bruce grins.  “Apparently, the Other Guy likes the new addition to our family.  Go figure.”

It’s Bucky who uncertainly volunteers a:  “Thanks, I guess?”

"You’re welcome."

"Well, Doc Big and Green is right.  Killer diller soup, man," Clint offers.  And because Clint is also a little shit, he adds, " ‘Course, if you’re fattening Steve up for Thanksgiving, you’re going to need more than chicken noodle soup though.  Got any more recipes in there?"

The Soldier pauses.  “…I think so?”

Steve smiles and Natasha recognizes it immediately as the kind of smile that should strike fear in the hearts of men.  (Yeah, usually men - because even without the spell giving them this tiny, 1940’s version of Steve, Nat’s a bit more familiar with _that_ type of smile and Steve’s rarely got cause to slant it in her direction.)  “Then consider yourself conscripted for kitchen duty tomorrow, Clint.  _I’m_ the one who remembers all of Ma’s best recipes.  And Bucky’s Ma taught me some stuff too.”

"Aw, Cap."

Later, Steve refuses to get back in bed, at least, _"Not without you_ " an expression on his face that’s meant to be a stubborn scowl and looks more like an appealing pout.  Either way, the Soldier is helpless to resist it and he follows.  But he gets his own back by sweeping Steve up in a bridal carry - again, over Steve’s loud protests of "PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT BUCKO OR SO HELP ME — "

Those last words are cut off, presumably because Bucky has enough sense to finally translate the Russian endearments he’s been calling Steve the entire time in the kitchen.  It’s a good tactic for distraction.

Natasha and the others wait for him in the living room. 

He comes in around two hours later, fully dressed and armed to the teeth once more.  The man who stands before them looks a little more human than the cold, efficient Soldier Natasha had met all those years ago, a look of determination on his face.

"They will know I have disobeyed orders.  They will have trackers on me, devices to incapacitate and bring me back to them.  If one of _you_ serves _them_ and betrays _him_ , I _will_ destroy you first.”

"We are loyal to our Captain," Thor responds.  "If there be traitors in our midst, I would join you in rousting them out."

"On with the scanning; the whole traitors speech thing, suitably terrifying.  Not a bad guy, last time I checked." Tony tells him.  "JARVIS?"

"Scanning now, sir. Sergeant Barnes, if you please."

"We’re Avengers and we’re SHIELD," Clint says.  "We’re the good guys."

Natasha closes her eyes.  She can see this coming. 

"SHIELD is also HYDRA."

_\- tbc -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** Since this is really a canon divergence/AU, a few things of note:
> 
> a.  I placed Sam as working at the Brooklyn VA, since in this universe, Steve never left New York but I still wanted Sam to be part of this ‘verse.  Because Sam is awesome. 
> 
> b.  Yes, I really, really LOVE AU’s, because something tells me we’re going to need all the AU’s we’re gonna get. 
> 
> c.  Yes, I want to make Pierce suffer.  Hulk wants in. 


End file.
